The Time Meddler
by Heir of Rage
Summary: DISCONTINUED and adopted by The Literary Lord
1. Prologue

This is COMPLETELY AU, meaning that I'm screwing with practically everything, so don't assume ANYTHING! Nothing! ...And I don't own anything, either!

**Time Meddler**

Prologue

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The ghost portal shimmered with an unearthly light, the swirling ectoplasmic green of it almost hypnotic in nature. It was the only light in a darkened room, and the shadows danced cruelly on the dark walls. The light flared once as the portal fluctuated, and the shadows pulsed as though they were alive.

A girl's figure stepped daintily out of the glowing light, her form distorted by the one hanging over her slim frame. She shifted her grip on him, and even in the strange, glowing light, one could see the green blood that coated the unconscious male on her back.

The portal darkened again, and the girl's head whipped towards it urgently, a new energy found within her. She set the boy down gently, leapt back to her feet, and began searching for something on the edge of the portal. The light was growing dimmer as it shadowed something approaching, and the girl's searching intensified before she let out a triumphant exclamation. She pressed a large red button just as the portal darkened completely, and a dark laugh was cut off by the loud, metallic sound of the portal doors slamming shut.

The girl let out a sob of relief and sank to the ground by the doors. She could practically hear the enraged screams and wails that were sure to be coming from the other side, and the thought shook her. He had been so close. Had she been any slower–even a few seconds–he would have been loose. Again.

A low groan brought her back to earth, and with a gasp she remembered her injured companion. In a flash she had crawled to his side, her eyes glowing green with her night vision. He was exactly as she had left him—slumped over and unmoving, with ecto-blood still leaking sluggishly from his wounds. She felt the tears prickle at her eyes again, just as they had when she had first seen his state.

It had been her fault, after all. If she hadn't been so USELESS...then none of this would have happened.

Granted, HE would still be loose in the Ghost Zone, but her brother would have been safe. Safe, unharmed, and unknowing of the terror going on around him, just like she had planned.

But her plan had backfired. In her efforts to keep him from knowing of HIS escape, she had neglected to watch her back. In the end, it was Danny saving her.

Danielle let out another sob and let her fingers trace his face. He was cold. Then again, he was always cold in his ghost form, but it still shook her. She knew that he would be okay—Danny was always okay. Always brave. Always strong. Always fighting.

Which is why it looked so damn WRONG to see him there, lying among the charred ruins of the FentonWorks lab, bleeding and broken.

All of a sudden, she felt a brush of skin on her cheek, and she opened her eyes in surprise. Danny's pain filled green eyes stared up at her, his cold hand rested on her cheek. He smiled painfully, and gestured to his throat.

And Danielle's world snapped back into place. In a flash she had unbuckled his collar and unzipped his jacket, allowing him to breath more easily. Then, she unzipped the silver and black hazmat shirt he still wore beneath it to bare his wounded chest. She stifled her gasp as he cried out. His pale skin was covered in burns and bruises, with one deep sword wound cutting diagonally from his left hip to right shoulder. She knew that he would heal quickly, but she had to disinfect the wound, then bandage it and brace his ribs, as they were surely in a bad state.

Danielle reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a small roll of bandages. She could feel Danny smirking painfully at her, but she didn't care. It would have to do.

Knowing she would need the light, Danielle released a ball of green fire into the air, where it hovered there light some kind of bizarre lantern. Then, she got to work.

She worked as quickly as possible, not worrying about hurting her brother more. Danny liked it to be quick and agonizing, like a band-aid being removed. A bit more painful than that, sure, but she could gladly do that for him, especially since it was her fault that he was injured in the first place. The guilt came crashing down on her again, and her movement faltered slightly.

Danny's eyes flicked to hers, and she spoke quickly before she could change her mind.

"I'm so sorry."

He opened his mouth to respond, but she plowed on.

"It's all my fault, if I hadn't hid it from you, then none of this would have happened. HE wouldn't have captured me, you wouldn't have had to save me, and you w-wouldn't have been sent f-flying through a w-wall..." her voice broke, and she busied herself with his bandages again. She had barely finished tightening the bandage when her vision was obscured by a mop of green-stained hair.

"I'm always being sent through walls..."

Danny's arms wrapped around her weakly, comforting and being comforted at the same time. She could feel his body trembling, though from effort or emotions she couldn't tell, and she let herself break.

Danny held her as she cried, her arms lying limply at her sides and her face buried in his hair. When she had finished crying, he said softly, "I forgive you."

No more was needed to be said, but he continued anyway, his voice quiet and weak. "I...I would have done the same thing." He took a deep, painful breath. "...In all honestly, I almost left you there." She stiffened in surprise, and he stroked her hair soothingly. "I was so angry...All I knew was that HE had escaped—had been free for days, and that I was the last to know. I don't need people protecting me, dammit!" his voice rose in anger for a moment, before dying down again. "But I knew why you did it. And I couldn't abandon you and leave with my own selfish fear when all you had done was try to protect me. And for that...I'm sorry also."

Danielle smiled, and for a moment, all was right. Then Danny looked around, his eyes curious.

"Where are we, any–" His voice died as he took in their surroundings.

Danielle looked up as his body began to shake. "Danny, what's wro–"

"WHY DID YOU BRING US HERE?"

Danielle flinched back at his abrupt change of mood, dropping Danny and scooting backwards on the floor. Her brother's eyes were alight with rage and an icy blue. Abruptly, the room was colder. She shivered absently, and felt reluctant fear rise at the sight of her brother. "I–I don't..."

"YOU HAVE NO RIGHT! No right to–!" He buried his face in his hand, the other propping him up halfway. He took a shaking, calming breath, and Danielle jumped in before he could continue.

"J-just lay down, Danny, you're not healed yet–"

"It doesn't matter!" Danny exploded again, and brought both knees up to his protesting chest. "Why...why HERE?"

Danielle lowered her hands slowly as he seemed to calm down. She edged closer to him and put a comforting hand on his back. "I...I didn't know..." she flinched when Danny sighed, but didn't move away.

"O-of course you wouldn't know. I...I'm sorry, Danielle. I just keep messing up, don't I? Danny looked up, and she was surprised to see tears running down his face. Danny NEVER cried...never ever. It was the LAW.

"Y-you don't need to..." she trailed off as she understood what he was talking about, and a kind of righteous fury entered her. "STOP IT!" she practically screeched, and pulled him closer. "I'm not afraid of you, I'm not..."

"...Why? I nearly killed you...I nearly...n-nearly..." Danny choked and his eyes went wide with horror.

"That wasn't you. That THING isn't you. HE isn't you." Danielle said assuredly. "You promised you wouldn't turn into him, so he isn't you. Because you never break your promises."

"But I-HE, almost...!"

"I don't care. He didn't. You DIDN'T." Danielle just held him, even though his tears had long since stopped. It had become customary. Their relationship wasn't the conventional "Brother-Sister" thing. It was so much more, in so many ways.

"...this was my house." Danny's voice was so quiet, she wasn't sure that she had heard it at first, until he continued. "I l-lived here...until I was eight. With M-Mom, and D-Dad...and Jazz..." he shuddered, then continued. "My parents were inventors...they created the first ever ghost portal. This portal. But it went wrong. Too many chemicals, too much power. When it exploded, we were all right in front of it. I got the heat of the blast, but I was the only one to survive." He let out a hollow laugh. "I was the only one to turn into a half-ghost freak, and the only one not buried when the building started to collapse."

Danielle trembled slightly. This wasn't like him. Not like him at all. Danny continued, oblivious to his sister's discomfort.

"The portal works now. Whoop-dee-freaking-doo. J-Jazz was only ten..." He sighed suddenly. "Come on, you're hurt too, let's find a place to spend the night. We sure as hell can't go back in THERE."

Like that, the conversation was closed, and Danny sent up a gust of freezing air to douse the floating green fire that illuminated the room. There were two bright flashes of white light, and they were plunged into darkness.

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Danielle shivered and pulled her jacket closer. It was much colder in her human form than it was in her ghost, and she was still wearing summer clothes. In the middle of November.

Stupid.

She sent a sidelong glare at the boy walking along beside her in nothing but a thin sweatshirt. Damn him and his cyrokinesis.

Danny grinned at his sister from the corner of his eye. He loved to lord it over her in the winter, when his powers were strongest, and hers weakest. It made him feel like a proper big brother.

And it was funny to see her shiver.

He brushed his shaggy black bangs out of his eyes and contemplated momentarily about getting a haircut. He dropped the idea, though, saying he would cut it before it was long enough to put in a pony tail. A little hair never hurt anyone.

Danny was in a much better mood than the night before. His wounds were mostly healed, but for the tender scaring across his chest and a slightly aching wrist and head. He felt alive again.

Literally.

He knew that Danielle loved being in Ghost mode—it was easier for her, because it had been all that she had known. But Danny...he had been human, once. He loved the feeling of wholeness and warmth that being human gave him, and that was one thing that his "Sister" would never understand.

But he loved her anyway.

Danny let out a little noise of confirmation as he suddenly dragged the younger girl to his side, causing her to stumble in mid step. "Hey," he said to her lowly as he wrapped his uninjured arm around her. "Lighten up."

Danielle grimaced and pushed away. She crossed her arms and pouted, trying not to look at the older boy. Danny grinned again.

"Heeeeeey."

'What?" Her voice was like acid.

"It's just highschool. What's the worst that could happen?"

Danielle swore she could see red. "THE WORST THAT CAN HAPPEN?" she shrieked, rounding on her brother, who put up his hands in a 'Don't hit me' gesture. "Danny, they could find OUT! Someone could get HURT, I could FAIL!"

She had expected him to frown and say that nothing bad could happen, because he would protect everyone. She did NOT expect him to laugh.

"D-Danielle...please." Danny choked out through his laughter. "We're on the run from a psychotic evil ghost from my future, and you're worried about FAILING?" And with that, he burst into hysterical giggles, almost tripping several times on the sidewalk.

Danielle flushed red and mumbled something about stupid fruitloops, before lighting up and turning on Danny again. "We don't even have NAMES!" she exclaimed triumphantly.

"H-huh?" Danny hiccuped, wiping the tears from his face with a grin.

"Names! We don't have names, or birth certificates, or a REASON to be in...where are we, anyway?"

"Amity Park. A Nice Place to Live."

"YES! What are we supposed to do, Danny! We can't just waltz up to the office and be like, "Hi! We're orphans from the Ghost Zone on the run from an evil ghost from the future! Where do we sign in?"" She took a deep breath, "And another thing...!"

"Fine."

"...wait...huh?"

Danny grinned easily. "You can pick the names, and I'll work on the back story. Got it?"

Danielle faltered, her hands freezing where they'd been waving around frantically. "I...but...NO!"

"Why not?"

"You weren't supposed to agree!" Danielle said desperately, but she knew it was no use as Danny's grin never faltered.

"Ahh, but I do! And who knows! Maybe you'll meet someone!" Danny winked, ruffled her hair through her beanie, and left his "sister" standing there, dumbfounded and gaping like a fish.

"H-hey! Wait for me!"

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Sam Manson twiddled her pencil so hard it went flying through the air and straight onto the desk beside her. She shot a sheepish glace to her right and noted with a sigh of relief that it was the desk of her best (and only) friend, Tucker.

Tucker sent her a little mocking glare and raised his eyebrow at her, then pointed HER pencil at the front of the classroom where the history teacher was droning about some old dead guy. Sam glared right back at him and held out her hand silently, demanding her purple bat pencil back. Tucker only grinned.

Sam growled under her breath and turned her attention back to the clock. It was moving frustratingly slowly, and now she didn't have the luxury of doodling on her notebook.

Damn you, Tucker.

As if he could sense her rage, Tucker quickly sent the pencil flying back onto her desk. Sam caught it against the wood with a resounding CRACK, but no one even looked up from their desks.

Typical.

She sent a grateful glance at Tucker, who only waved a little and went back to playing with his PDA under his desk.

And class went on.

When the bell finally rang, Sam lingered at Tucker's desk only long enough for the techno-geek to grab his bag before practically sprinting down the hallways, Tucker in tow. It was Study Hall next–Sam's favourite class, which to be fair, wasn't a class at all.

That was why she liked it.

Sam flung open the door with a shout and bounced—yes, bounced–to her chair. Tucker followed slightly less exuberantly with a fond smile on his face. Sam plopped down on her desk and buried her face in her spider back-pack, all too ready to catch some much needed sleep. Her parents had kept her up last night, arguing about safety measures or college or some such. She didn't care enough to listen, but the walls in her house(cough mansion cough) were thin.

She shuffled in her seat to get more comfortable and let out a sigh of relief just when she heard the quiet giggles coming from the back of the classroom. Sam lifted her head off of her backpack, absently spitting her hair out of her mouth, and turned to where two people she had never seen before sat.

There was a boy about her age, and a younger girl–both black haired, blue eyed and similar enough to have been twins. The boy had his hood up and was scowling at the giggling girl who was...

Looking at her.

Oh, she was gonna get it.

Sam looked meaningfully at Tucker and flicked her eyes to the back of the room. Tucker raised an eyes brow at her from his seat in front of her, then nodded. Simultaneously, the two friends rose from their seats and relocated to the chairs near the back of the room, directly in front of the new kids. Again simultaneously, they spun in their chairs and did their practised "New Kid" stare.

Sam's amethyst eyes were scarily wide, made even more disturbing by her black eye liner and violet eye shadow.

Tucker's were the opposite; narrowed into calculating green slits that peeked out from behind his rectangle glasses.

They were silent.

And then the girl started laughing again.

Sam continued staring. She was directly opposite the older boy, who she realized was probably the same age that she was. He had ice-blue eyes that were staring at her with the same intensity that she was staring at him. She allowed her eyes to flicker around his face.

Pale, fine-boned, with dark eye-lashes and a strong chin. His eyes practically shone out from the shadows of his hood and shaggy black bangs.

She glanced at Tucker, who was doing the same categorizing that she was to the girl, who had stopped laughing and was just smiling at him strangely. The two of them were extremely similar–the girl didn't even wear any make-up, making her look even more like the boy.

Eventually, Tucker looked back at Sam and widened his eyes. Sam grinned, and addressed the two bemused students.

"Alright. You'll do."

And a friendship was born.


	2. Visions of Future's Past

This is COMPLETELY AU, meaning that I'm screwing with practically everything, so don't assume ANYTHING! Nothing! ...And I don't own anything, either!

**Time Meddler **

Chapter One: Visions of Futures Past

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Eight Years Previously...

Clockwork. The Master of Time. Cronos. The Seer of All. One ghost that you REALLY didn't want to piss off. All were titles of the powerful being floating casually by a wall of large, ornate mirrors. At closer inspection, one would see that those mirrors showed not what was reflected, but images from times long past, times not meant to be, and times yet to come. But only if there was someone to see that.

Clockwork lived alone in his tower of clocks and gears, if you could call his existence living at all. The only visitors he had were the cynical, one-eyed ghosts known as Observants, and the poor, wandering spirits of humans who could not accept that they were, in fact, dead.

Not very thrilling company.

Despite his age and company, Clockwork was not the lonely, bitter old man that one would expect of the Master of Time. He was lonely, sure, but not bitter.

Not bitter...

Oh screw it, he was bitter.

Clockwork sighed in agitation and finally let down his facade. The Observants had left, and he was alone again, so why keep it up? He slumped in the air and pushed back his hood tiredly to brush his pale hair from his forehead. It took a lot of energy to keep up his act of "All Powerful", especially around the Observants. They saw to clearly for just cheap parlour tricks and grave eyes. They needed the "real deal", so that was what Clockwork gave them. Or, appeared to give them.

It was all too easy with his power, of course, to come up with the shifting illusion that unnerved and awed the people around him. It was not easy, however, to keep up that illusion for long periods of time.

But if that was what had to be done to keep the observants off of his back, then so be it. He knew that they would never allow him such a high position if they ever guessed his true appearance.

Not that it mirrored his age–which he had not told anyone, EVER–but the Observants would not trust his judgement if they found out that he had died at the mere age of twenty-six.

Twenty-six. In human years, this was old enough to make decisions, old enough to be trusted.

Not in the Ghost Zone.

So, to keep them from discovering him, Clockwork created his illusion to make him seem...apart from time, as one would say. A child one moment, then a tad older than he really was, then an ancient old man that would surely appease the Council.

It had worked.

Clockwork was THRILLED.

Sarcasm not intended, honestly. He actually really enjoyed his job–well, enough that he didn't complain. Often. He was charged with monitoring the time-streams. All of them, from every single alternate reality, and every single moment in time. If something happened to make the dinosaurs survive the ice age, Clockwork would drop a meteor on them. Every single time. Always.

He was also charged–under orders of the Observants, of course–to monitor the Ghost Zone, and through that, the Human World. Clockwork didn't mind that. He found humans intriguing. He was far too old to remember much of his own "Life", but that only strengthened his resolve to know all he could about the World now.

He really was a curious being. He didn't know HOW the Observants put up with him.

Oh. Right.

Because he could make them all explode with just a pulse of his copious amount of spectral energy.

Can't forget that.

Grinning mentally with his sudden energy rush, Clockwork almost didn't realize he was having a vision until a wave of vertigo overtook him, and he faltered in the air. Forming legs quickly, he dropped to the stone floor of his chamber and waited for the dizziness of the flashing images to pass. It wasn't always like that, having a vision. Sometimes he barely flinched. Other times, it was almost physically painful. Another reason Clockwork didn't have many companions. He hated to show weakness.

When he steadied, Clockwork sent a quick pulse of energy and a screen of light appeared that hovered just above the floor. An image shimmered into place, and Clockwork couldn't help but watch.

It showed a family of four, all gathered together in a large, lab-like room, it's walls lined with blueprints and table covered in various wires and beakers. His eyes were immediately drawn to the farthest wall in the room where a great metallic arch was cut into the cement. Wires, mysterious fluids, and warped bits of metal littered the ground and layed in piles around the intimidating steel cave, and Clockwork could practically see the tense excitement in the air.

_The large figure of a man clad in a day-glow orange hazmat suit lumbered near the edge of the contraption, fiddling with wires and adjusting knobs. He turned briefly as a woman in a similar teal suit called out to him, motioning with her hands. The man grinned brightly, yelled back, and turned to the gauges at the side of the machine. He pulled at an opening near the gauges and filled a clear glass compartment with a glowing green substance. _

Clockwork knew what it was, of course. Ectoplasm liquid ectoplasm. He also knew what would happen if the two scientists used ectoplasm far too potent for the mechanics in their device, but he did nothing to warn them. It was meant to be, and it hurt him to know that.

But it had to be done.

The real object of his attention was staring curiously at the device, his bright blue eyes wide and innocent, staring through his shaggy black bangs. The child—no more than eight, Clockwork knew–was dressed in a white and black hazmat suit, almost identical to his parents'.

_A young red-headed girl–only a couple of years older than him–was sitting on the floor near one of the cluttered tables. She obviously didn't care about what was happening around her; this was evident from the array of chapter books and toys that surrounded her. She had a strangely dressed stuffed bear in her lap while her mother fussed with the zipper of her pink hazmat. She hardly seemed to notice the way her hair was caught in the zip, so engrossed with the book in her hands_.

_Neither parent, nor their ten-year-old daughter, noticed the youngest member of their family hovering by the entrance to the steel cave as if in a trance, his eyes fixed on something only he could see._

_The man, so caught up in his excitement–and perhaps slightly impaired by the protective goggles over his eyes, called out to his wife soundlessly and connected the plugs to the machine, a wild, happy grin on his face. The woman gave a tender kiss on her unresponsive daughter's forehead and turned to smile at her husband. _

_She looked to the portal eagerly, only for her face to contort in horror as she saw the contraption whirring to life, the green light poring from it silhouetting the form of her youngest child._

Clockwork felt as stab of pity for the woman as he saw her lips move soundlessly, and it only increased as the man seemed to realize what was happening, but again, he made no move to freeze time. It was necessary, he told himself time and time again. It did not make it any easier to watch.

Had the screen had sound, he would have heard the woman's frantic scream to her son, telling him to move as she jumped to her feet, before shuddering to a halt, paralysed with fear. _The man called out and made to move forward, but the shrapnel tangled around his feet prevented him from movement._

_The boy didn't appear to hear either of them, though, and his small white-clad figure moved as if_ _hypnotized closer to the portal. The green swirling light reflected brightly in his glazed eyes, as if on fire. Then, it began to fluctuate wildly. _

_Wires fried and sparked, the gauges cracked and exploded outwards, sending shards of burning glass into the man's face, blinding him in the heat and pain. The woman, hearing her husbands cries of pain, jolted out of her panic-induced paralysis and tried to rush forward, only to stumble and fall to the ground as her terrified and bawling daughter clung to her leg. The woman raised herself onto her elbows and turned her anguished eyes upwards as her son's small hand reached out._

_His fingers brushed the open portal just as it exploded outwards in a rush of green fire._ Clockwork did not need volume to know that at that moment, every one of the Fenton family had been screaming.

Clockwork let the screen dissipate, a pained expression on his scarred face. The vison still flickered behind his eyes, and he knew that none of them had survived. Not really. The boy would wake up, half dead, in the rubble of his home next to the pulsing green light of the stable portal. He would understand quickly, as he was quite smart of his age. He would take one look at his reflection in the broken glass of the lab, see his powder white hair and luminescent eyes, and he would know.

He would scream, he would cry, he would throw himself at the rubble and tear at it with his bare hands, but he would find neither his parents or his sister.

They were gone. Incinerated by the blast, or crushed under falling cement, it didn't matter. They were gone.

Then, grief-stricken and terrified, he would turn to the only thing that gave him comfort: the portal that had caused this disaster. It wouldn't make sense to him, he wouldn't understand his attraction to it, nor where it would lead him to, but he would walk through the archway to the Ghost Zone.

Then, one day, he would grow to be one of the most powerful ghosts in all the Worlds.

And all would be well.

Clockwork sighed for what seemed to be the millionth time that day. He rubbed at his temples, frowning pensively. It was hard, to see to child go through such pain. Again. It was always hardest when he was young. Of course, being the Master of Time and Dimensions, he had seen it happen countless times before to the same child...in a sense. Daniel Fenton, the world's saviour, in every single timeline. Every single dimension. Every single universe. It was a constant.

Always.

Clockwork LIKED always.

It didn't always happen the same way, of course, but somehow, Daniel Fenton would gain the power of the Ghost Zone, and become a Phantom. He had seen it happen so may ways...experimentation...FULL death...and the most common, and Clockwork's personal favourite, was when the boy was fourteen. When he had two good friends, and walked into the inoperative portal of his own accord. Everything always ended well in that timeline.

Always.

Now, finally, it was happening in this realm. The centre realm. The only one that Clockwork truly controlled. He was glad—he had waited too long, had seen too many false beginnings and ends.

Clockwork's train of though shuddered to a halt as another vision wracked though him, causing him to stumble on his rarely used legs and slump into a nearby chair. The vision flared into his mind in a flash of light, and he sent a pulse into the air to properly view it.

Another screen bloomed into view, and Clockwork sighed in relief when he saw a child with white hair. This was happening a good two hours in the future. Having never seen this timeline before, Clockwork had been worried. But it was for naught: he had survived.

The boy looked miserable, but unharmed. His hazmat suit had inverted colours, much like it did in the OTHER portal-accident dimension, and it was completely undamaged. Somehow. Clockwork didn't have long to ponder that before his attention flickered to something else.

_The boy was crying–sobbing really–and shaking like a leaf. His eyes were wide and traumatized, and he was curled in on himself in the middle of nowhere. Sitting on one of the random floating rocks that littered the space between lairs in the Ghost Zone._

_The relieved blankness was replaced by an icy horror as another figure entered the scene, and put a seemingly innocent hand on the boy's small shoulder. _

_Daniel looked up with tear-stained eyes._

_Plasmius smirked._

Clockwork shuddered as the vison flickered to a halt, before moving on to a new one, making his head spin and his eyes dart around frantically to take it all in.

_Plasmius sent a jot of red energy coursing through the boy, a scheming grin on his face, alight with greed and malice. Daniel screamed, a horrid, drawn out sound of pain and terror, before his green eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed. _

FLASH

_Plasmius' shock and glee when the boy held in his large hands was engulfed in two rings of white light that passed down his limp body, changing him into a boy that he recognized very well._

FLASH

_The crazed look in his eye as he stared down at the tiny, insignificant looking thing that seemed so unreal in his muscular arms. The child that he knew to be the son of the man he hated...and the woman he loved..._

Clockwork let out a gasp, and breathing heavily as if he had been underwater, he struggled in vain for the breath that his body neither wanted nor needed. A final vison flickered behind his eyes, and he let out an exhausted groan of exasperation and let it fill his senses, not bothering with the screen.

What he saw chilled him to the bone.

_Soulless red eyes, alight with madness; white hair, whipped about as if on fire; fanged teeth set in a mouth that was laughing as he stood amidst piles of mangled human corpses. From his fingertips dripped blood._

Clockwork recoiled from the image in horror, belatedly remembering to dismiss the vision from his mind. He took unnecessary calming breaths and held his head in his hands until his core stopped fluctuating wildly and stabilized.

He opened his eyes, and as the familiar dark green light of his tower entered his gaze, he knew what he had to do.

It was with a heavy sense of foreboding that he formed his spectral tail and moved to the doors of his tower.

He had to confront the problem at it's source, and stop this disaster before it could happen.

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**Hehe. Did I surprise you? Confuse you? Answer some questions? No? Well, I hope I did! . I did it this way as a strategy to stop myself from losing interest in this. Yeah. I have a record of not caring about my fics after three chapters...just ask one of the readers of "Fate and Innocence"! **

**...which, by the way, will be deleted as soon as I get confirmation of adoption! YAAAY! Thank you so MUCH! I HATE it with a burning passion.**

**Yeah.**

**Anywho, thank you VERY **_**VERY**_** much to:**

Quetzalcoatls, TwilightObsessed91, Windsurf, , Blood of the Dawn, kerroohawk, Prophet of Shadow, Envy of Night, **and **artfan

**For reviewing and stuff! I really appreciate it, and I will love you even more if you don't drop me after reading this chapter! **


	3. Meddling

This is COMPLETELY AU, meaning that I'm screwing with practically everything, so don't assume ANYTHING! Nothing!

Time Meddler

Chapter Two: Meddling

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_The black haired boy of about fifteen stared blankly ahead of him from his position slumped against the wall. His arm was bent at an odd angle, and blood was mixing with the dirt and sweat on his face. His blue eyes were dull and lifeless, circle with dark, bruised skin. In all, he had a mean, almost starved look about him. He was seemingly ignorant of all pain, even as he convulsed slightly and blood dribbled down his chin. _

_The man—no, ghost—in front of him was a stark contrast to the boy. Where he was torn and tattered, the man was clean, fresh pressed, and imposing in a white and red cape. The boy's flushed skin was littered in cuts, burns, and bruises, while the man's ghostly blue pallor remain untouched. _

_The man glared down at the boy at his feet from where he was floating in the air. His arms were crossed with displeasure, not quite concealing the smoke drifting from his still-crackling fingers. Black rings of light encircled his body and he dropped to the ground with an irritated sigh._

_The boy didn't even blink. _

_Running a hand through his now-white hair, Vladimir Masters spoke, his voice mocking. "Daniel, Daniel, Daniel. What ever am I to do with you?" He waited for a reaction, but when none was forthcoming, he pressed on. "You're power is so pitiful...barely even managing to form a proper duplicate, let alone compete against ME, Vlad Plasmius!" _

_Daniel's eyes cleared and flashed green weakly. He spat on the ground in front of Vlad and glared. The affect was lost somewhat do to his exhausted posture. _

_In an instant, Vlad lashed out and his foot connected with the boy's thin chest with a dull thud. Daniel's scream of pain echoed through the destroyed room. He slumped to the floor, fresh blood seeping through his clenched teeth as he fought for breath. Above him, Vlad seethed._

_He ignored the awful gurgled coughing coming from the boy before him, and stooped down to crouch, poised with a deadly feline grace. He raised an eyebrow then at Daniel's odd whimpering, and it took him almost a full minute to understand that he was trying to speak through his pain._

_Vlad smirked. "Ooh, feeling feisty are we, Little Badger? Feeling brave?" He reached out and grabbed the boy's too-long hair, dragging the protesting youth forward. At Daniel's cry of distress, Vlad's smile widened and he dug his nails further into his scalp, making the boy screech in pain. _

"_You should have obeyed me, Daniel. I thought we had something? I trained you better than this! Four years of love and respect, and then suddenly: Defiance. Well, it's gone on for too long, son. FAR too long."_

"_-m'not..."_

_Vlad jerked his hand and stood suddenly, dragging the teen by his hair to his knees."What was THAT, Daniel?"_

"_I'm...not...you're...son..." Daniel finally looked up, his eyes defiant and the colour of a stormy sea. _

_Vlad only laughed. "Oh, but you are now, my boy! With you're IDIOT of a father dead, and you're sister out of the way, there's no one left for you but me! It was only a mistake that you were the one to survive! Maddie was supposed to be closest to the portal! Maddie should have survived to become my Queen! And it's all YOUR fault!_

_Vlad let out a laugh at that, his words further accenting his mental state as his eyes widened and his whole body shook with the force of hysterical convulsions._

_Daniel's head was being whipped around in the older halfa's actions when Vlad began to notice that something was wrong._

_The boy had not moved to defend his father, nor had he raged at Vlad's admission of guilt, or even tried to defend his honour. He remained still and unresponsive. Vlad's laugher died down and he ceased his shaking of the boy, and was just about to tilt his head upwards to check his pulse when a fiery shock ran through his entire body._

_Vlad yelped in pain and withdrew his hand from Daniel's hair quickly, but did not back away. _

_Daniel remained unmoving, not even slumping forwards at the sudden release. It was disconcerting, as his toes barely brushed the ground, his knees didn't touch at all. He remained there, stationary in the air like an abandoned marionette left to hang, when in a burst of green fire, his power exploded outwards with an agonized scream._

_Vlad fell backwards and his scream mingled with the younger's as the energy wave pulsed towards him, making his hair fly back, tearing and burning at his skin. His eyes were wide with fear, and he uttered one word, filled with terror and regret:_

"_Daniel..."_

_Daniel's head snapped up animalistically, and his body flashed with white light. Black became white..._

_And Vlad was looking straight at a pair of tear filled red eyes._

_Daniel laughed as the mansion burned._

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Clockwork flew through the misty green expanses of the Ghost Zone, in a speed he hadn't in pulled up his hood as he flew, scouring the air with a determined, if slightly frantic gaze. He clenched his hand around his staff and pushed himself harder, flying closer and closer to the part of the Zone that coincided with Wisconsin. Plasmius would never wander too far into a realm whose residents hated him with a fiery passion, so he must have found Daniel near his own lair...

A strange type of panic overtook Clockwork at the mere thought of the boy_. _He was in turmoil. Could he really kill a defenceless child? (Well, half-kill, half-obliterate, but the end product was the same) Could he really rid the worlds of Daniel Fenton? Of their hero?

Cold, hard facts stood out clearly In his mind. He wasn't a hero. Not yet.

And, if his vison was to be trusted, he never would be.

It was Clockwork's duty as the Master of Time to keep the Universe safe. In balance. So it was his duty to destroy this threat, before it could destroy them all.

He knew this, so why was he filled with guilt?

Clockwork hesitated in his flight when he saw a speck of white in the distance, standing out in it's pure, ethereal glow.

Daniel.

Clockwork made his body invisible and flew towards the boy at a slightly slower pace, making no sound through the still air. As Clockwork neared the child, he took notice of his position: hunched over, knees up with his snowy-white head buried in his arms. Clockwork's guilt magnified when he saw that the boy was already crying.

He hovered invisibly above Daniel's shaking form, hesitant to do anything yet. At last, he raised one gloved hand, energy powering up between his fingers, when Daniel's head snapped up. Clockwork found himself caught in a gaze of pure, innocent green, shining as though lit from behind.

All at once, Clockwork's perspective on his future changed, and new, reckless ideas flared in his mind. He flickered back into view, and Daniel started and scrambled backwards on the rocks. A high pitched whine sounded in his throat.

Clockwork quickly floated to the ground and knelt before him, trying to appear as unthreatening as possible. It didn't appear to work however, as the boy's crying just intensified. Clockwork sighed in frustration and slowly, so as not to startle him, raised his hand towards the boy.

Daniel flinched violently as Clockwork's fingers brushed his shoulder, and a look of terror flashed over his face. He cried out and made a violent movement to escape, but was pinned to Clockwork's side in a millisecond.

Clockwork flinched as Daniel's screaming intensified and he lashed out, pounding against his prison. Clockwork held fast though, and waited until the boy had tired enough to say, "Are we done now?"

Daniel let out a whimper, but didn't reply, his face shadowed by his bangs. His hands clenched uselessly by his sides, then relaxed again. Then, he spoke.

"Mommy..."

Clockwork's grip faltered momentarily, and that was all that Daniel needed as he ripped away from the time-ghost in a flurry of tears. He didn't get far, however, as the ledge he was perched on was only a few metres wide. Daniel skidded to a stop at the overhang, unaware that if he had continued, the strange gravity of the Ghost Zone would have carried him away.

He spun around to glare at his attacker, the effect lost somewhat as he was still crying. However, his voice was strong as he screamed, "LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Clockwork formed legs apathetically, his face blank. Daniel's eyes widened in fear and wonderment, then clenched shut as Clockwork began to move towards him.

"GO AWAY!"

Step.

"Go away go away go away!

Step.

"Goawaygoawaygoaway..."

Daniel curled in on himself, mumbling incoherently. He flinched when he felt a pair of strong arms wrap around him, but didn't move.

"It's okay, Daniel. I'll take care of you."

And Daniel broke.

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It was a reckless, stupid idea. Something that the Observants would surely get on his case about. Something that could get him executed—well, ripped apart molecule-by-molecule, anyway.

But Clockwork was known for that. He didn't particularly _like_ to interfere with the stream of time, at least not beyond making sure things ran smoothly, but this time he felt it was nessassary.

Killing Daniel would prevent the destruction of both worlds, sure, but letting him LIVE, and taking him in when he had no where else to go?

That was something Clockwork had never done before. But he was eager to try it out.

As soon as he had calmed the boy down enough to get him to speak in proper English–which was, to Clockwork's pleasant surprise, extremely good for an eight-year-old mortal—he had gotten Daniel to tell him everything.

He knew more than he had wanted to now. That was rare, for him. But now, he knew exactly what Jack and Maddie Fenton had been screaming. He knew that Danny had indeed heard them calling to him, but had deemed it unimportant in lieu of staring into the captivating light of the portal. He knew that after the explosion, Danny had found a small, black-gloved hand sticking out through the rubble, still clutching a singed teddy-bear in a steel grip.

He knew that Daniel believed himself to be dead.

And he knew that Daniel also believed that he would see his family again one day. Clockwork did nothing to dispute that claim, as it was technically true, but he didn't confirm it either. Ghosts took decades–sometimes CENTURIES—to form.

Daniel was not fully dead, and if Clockwork had anything to say about it, he wouldn't see his family for a very long time.

He had asked Daniel if he wanted to live with him, and though he had been wary at first, Daniel accepted quickly. It was obvious to the Time-Ghost that Daniel saw something in him already, for when Clockwork had picked up the ghost-child, Daniel had clung to his cloak tightly and had not let go even when they had reached the tower.

Clockwork gently placed the child on the ground, who readjusted his grip onto the hem of his purple cloak. Clockwork rolled his eyes at that and formed legs to make things easier.

Honestly. Children.

"This is you're new home, Daniel!" Clockwork exclaimed somewhat lamely–he never had been good with children. He raised an eyebrow at the slight mumble he got back, and looked down. "What was that?"

"...Danny..." the child muttered, not looking up. At Clockwork's confusion, he explained himself. "It's Danny. Not Daniel. Only Uncle Vlad calls me Daniel..."

He seemed to tear up again, and Clockwork felt a pang of regret. It was the right thing to do, he told himself. Vlad was...Vlad was not right. Not right at all. And to prevent that future from ever happening, he could NEVER get his hands on Daniel...no, Danny.

"Alright, Danny," Clockwork smiled and knelt before the younger, pulling down his hood to make his scarred face seem more inviting. "Now, why don't we get you out of that hazmat?"

Danny mumbled something then, and looked away. Clockwork frowned and raised the boy's chin with one gloved hand. "Danny?"

"...I like it...Daddy got it for me..."

There it was again. Guilt. Clockwork smiled uneasily, beckoned for him. Danny followed hesitantly, his sombre mood replaced with curiosity.

All of a sudden, Clockwork spoke, "Marla,"

Danny blinked up at the Time-Ghost, wondering if perhaps his new guardian was a little crazy, when a new voice spoke up.

"Yes, Master?"

Danny jumped and clung tighter to Clockwork's leg, causing him to chuckle as he explained. "Danny, this is Marla. She works for me, and she's going to help me take care of you. Marla, this is Daniel Fenton."

Danny frowned up at the ghost-woman shyly. "C-call me Danny." he stuttered, his eyes very wide.

Marla smiled softly and nodded. She was tall for a woman, around 5' 10", dressed in a traditional maid's outfit of black and white. She had a pleasant, if not plain, face, and short curled auburn hair that contrasted strangely with her pale-green skin and red eyes. When she spoke, her voice was quiet. "Greetings, Master Danny."

"J-just Danny, please, Miss. Master is Uncle Vlad's name."

Clockwork couldn't help but grin a little at that. Yes, it was, and it always would be only Vlad's name, never Danny's.

Marla ended up leading the two down a hallway that Clockwork was ashamed to admit he had never been down before. It was lit with brackets of warm, red-flamed candles, and gave off a much more pleasant air than the main chamber of the tower. Marla caught his gaze and gave a wry smile. Clockwork might have been a model employer, but he really didn't converse enough with his help.

Marla opened a door on the far end of the hall and ushered the two inside. Clockwork raised an eyebrow at the sight before him: a small, homey bedroom with a glass ceiling and a wall of gears. A dresser, night stand, and bed were the only furniture in the room, but all were child-sized and a pale indigo. As Danny let out a soft cry of wonder, Clockwork looked to Marla with a questioning glance.

She only smiled and winked. Clockwork resolved to give her a raise, right then and there. That, and to put a pass-code of some sort on his viewing screen.

Nudging Danny forward with his foot, Clockwork smiled slightly as the boy ran into the room to stare at the bed, but didn't touch it. His amusement turned to alarm when the child promptly burst into tears and collapsed in a heap near the foot of his bed.

As Marla rushed forward in a flurry of lace, Clockwork sighed and looked up through the glass ceiling, as if hoping that the swirling masses of green and purple in the sky would give him strength.

Once Marla had gotten the boy calmed down, Clockwork swooped forward and scooped the halfa up by the armpits, causing him to squeal in alarm. Promptly depositing him on the purple bed, Clockwork sat down beside him, his face conflicted.

Danny cocked his head and sniffled, his bright green eyes still red around the edges. Clockwork smiled uneasily. This wasn't going to be easy.

"Daniel.."

"It's Danny."

"Sorry, Danny. Well...I know it's hard, losing everything like that," Clockwork nervously cleared his throat as Danny's eyes watered again, but plowed forward. He could swear he saw Marla smirking at his discomfort, but brushed it aside. He tried again. "It's...it's hard, but you have to remember, Danny, that not all hope is lost. You'll see them again someday, you just have to keep moving forward." There. That wasn't too bad, was it?

Apparently it was, as Danny caught on to something that Clockwork hadn't realized he let slip. "Someday? But...but aren't they...Mommy and Daddy and Jazzy...aren't they ghostses, too?"

Clockwork winced, and said tentatively, "Ghosts take a very long time to form, Danny. It will be a very long time before you see any of them...but you will! One day!" he added at the end, trying to make the boy feel better.

It seemed to work, as Danny nodded slowly, a hopeful smile coming onto his face as he processed his words. Clockwork breathed a sigh of relief–and realized that he sighed a lot from someone who didn't need to breath in the first place...but old habits die hard...VERY hard. He swept a hand through his bangs and was just about to shoot a rare grin at an amused Marla when Danny spoke up again, his voice accusing.

"Wait...but you said...you said that ghostses take a long-long time to..to form. How am I here? I woke up right away..." he trailed off, then looked up with fire in his eyes. "YOU LIED TO ME!" he all but screamed, springing to his feet unsteadily on the bed.

Clockwork recoiled and quickly began damage control. "Nonononono! I didn't, I didn't!" Marla snorted from behind her hand. "I didn't lie, Danny! It's just that you're not a ghost!"

There. He said it. Danny's knees buckled and he plopped back onto the bed, his mouth slightly agape.

"..whaaa?"

Clockwork sighed. Okay, time for little words. "It's like this, Daniel," Danny didn't bother to correct him on his name, and only stared. "The...the portal that your parents were making, it shocked you. It hurt, didn't it?" Danny nodded numbly, a faint shudder rippling through him. Clockwork continued, slightly more sure. "Well, it changed you, Daniel. It...it turned you half-ghost. You're a halfa." when Danny didn't respond, Clockwork tried again. "You have ghost powers, but you're still human. Still alive."

Danny stared blankly at him, his mouth slowly closing. Clockwork looked to Marla, who laughed out loud at the look of helplessness on her Master's face. She promptly covered her mouth with both hands, looking mortified, but the sound cut through the room and gave Danny the start he needed.

"So...I'm like Spider-man?"

Sometimes Clockwork felt like his time-meddling wasn't really worth it.

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**And there's chapter two! Don't mind Marla, will you? She'll be around quite a bit, but she's not important, other than the female role-model type thing. And to remind Clocky that Danny needs food to live. **

**He would forget that, you know it!**

**And don't worry about me pairing her with Clocky! I love him single and alone! Seriously, it's kinda hard for me to imagine him even HAVING a maid! Really!**

**Thank you SO much to:**

Quetzalcoatls, 2Belle26, kerroohawk, MakaylaLCullen, serin2 ShadowAngelLeiter, mermaidpotato, the-ice-cold-alchemist, 1337kitsune, **and **TwilightObsessed91 **for supporting me~! You guys are awesome!**


	4. Complications

This is COMPLETELY AU, meaning that I'm screwing with practically everything, so don't assume ANYTHING! Nothing!

Time Meddler

Chapter Three: Complications

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After assuring Danny that YES, he had powers, and NO, he couldn't climb walls or wear a mask, Clockwork had to practically pin the now-happy child to the bed. (**Oh GOD that sounds wrong! Nnngh...)**

It was odd but relieving, to see the boy happy. Until then, Danny had been on the verge of tears at all times, forever thinking of his lost family. Now, at the prospect to seeing them again(and with the added bonus of having ghost-powers while not actually being dead), Danny had turned into the happy, giggling eight-year-old that Clockwork remembered spyi–I mean, watching over.

Yeah.

The only problem: he was still in "Ghost Form". The laughing child he had pinned underneath his arm was white haired and jumpsuit-clad. It should have been a happy BREATHING, raven-haired boy on the bed laughing and making strange superhero gestures towards the glass ceiling.

Clockwork had to do something about that.

Naturally, the boy's exhaustion should had won over and he should have reverted back to human in a matter of minutes after the accident. However, since Danny had been in the Ghost Zone for the majority of his "transformation", the ambient energy of the Zone had re-enforced his ghost half. Meaning, in common English, that transforming back to human in the Ghost Zone would be extremely difficult.

He didn't think that Danny's small body could handle the strain.

"Daniel..."

Danny stopped laughing and glared up at him, but Clockwork ignored him. "I want you to focus your energy, Daniel. Picture yourself as you used to look. Can you do that?"

Danny thought for a minute, then shook his head. "I don't wanna. I like it like this."

"Daniel,"

"It's Danny! And who says I have to listen to you, anyway? You haven't even told me your name! You haven't told me NOTHING!"

"It's "You haven't told me Anything", Daniel."

"What EVER!" Danny seemed more angry than annoyed now, and the temperature in the room dropped ever so slightly. Clockwork frowned. It was true. He had simply told the boy to follow him, not giving any real information. He had been rather trusting.

No wonder Vlad had corrupted the kid.

Danny was staring up at the elder ghost almost impatiently, his arms crossed over Clockwork's restraining grip. "Well?" he drawled, his voice pitched high and expecting.

Clockwork slowly released the boy, who gasped dramatically for a moment, and slowly drew Daniel's hand into his much larger one, his face blank.

Danny looked down at their hands, then back up, confused.

"I didn't need you to tell me what happened to your family, Daniel." when the child didn't respond, he continued. "I was watching. I watched your father activate the machine, I watched the portal explode, and I watched your family die."

Danny's eyes filled with tears, and he glared half-heartedly up at the Time Ghost. "W-why didn't you s-stop it? You could have saved them! Saved my Mommy and Daddy, and Jazzy, too! YOU COULD HAVE SAVED THEM!" In seconds he was bawling again, and Clockwork drew him closer.

"I wanted to, Danny, I really did."

"B-but why..?"

"Because I am Clockwork, the Master of Time, and it was their time to die." he lifted the boys chin and forced his gaze on his. "But it wasn't yours." Danny's eyes widened, and though the tears didn't sop falling, he stilled and listened to the steady rumble of Clockwork's voice. "You're destined for great things, Danny. Greater than you could ever imagine, and I couldn't let that go to waste."

Danny nodded slowly—he didn't understand. "Danny Fenton..." Clockwork trailed off, and Danny opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out but a gush of air. Clockwork almost smiled, and he and ruffled the boy's powder white hair uncertainly. "If you don't turn back, you won't be a Fenton anymore, will you? You'll be a _Phantom_. A ghost."

Danny's eyes widened dramatically, and Clockwork latched onto that quickly. "You won't be able to eat, or sleep, and..." he raised an eyebrow suddenly, causing Danny to lean forward, mouth open slightly. "You won't look like your Father anymore."

That was the clincher.

"Turn me back, turn me back, TURN ME BAAACK!" Danny shrieked, much to Clockwork's amusement. He placed a hand firmly over Danny's mouth halting his screams, and said one word:

"Focus."

Danny's eyebrows shot up under his bangs, and then he slowly closed his eyes and stilled. An awkward silence fell in the room, and Clockwork glanced up, catching Marla's eye. He shot her a meaningful stare and waved her away. She shrugged, and wandered to the other side of the room.

A low humming filled the air, and Danny squirmed uncomfortably. A second later, twin halos of light passed down his form, revealing a red and white t-shirt and jean shorts. Danny blinked at the bright light from behind his eyelids and slowly opened his eyes, his breath held in anticipation. He looked down at himself...

And screamed.

But instead of noise, a choking gasp came from his mouth and he doubled over, his eyes dilated to pinpricks and his mouth gaping. He clutched at the bed sheets desperately, not even noticing the movement around him. Black spots danced before his vision as he struggled for oxygen, every breath hurt, and suddenly!

He could breath again. Danny sucked in air greedily, tears already running down his cheeks. He looked up, terrified, to see Clockwork's blank face just inches above his own. He dimly realized that a pair of large hands were pressed at his temples, and that his hands were gloved again, before he slumped forward into Clockwork's waiting arms.

In a nanosecond, Marla was at his side, her eyes wide and terrified. When she spoke, she sounded close to tears. "What did you do, Master?" she cried, and brought her hands to her mouth.

Clockwork looked up grimly and spoke so quietly that Marla had to strain to hear him. "I was right..but when aren't I? The strain of the Ghost Zone was too much for him, and his body went into shock. Nothing I could do, really, but force the transformation back again."

Marla let out a highly over dramatic squeak and abruptly started sobbing into her hands. Clockwork shot her an annoyed glance: she wasn't much better than the ghosts he NORMALLY had to deal with. He raised his voice so as to be heard over her cries. "I infused him with low-grade ectoplasm: Nothing that would hurt him, certainly not so soon after the accident, but enough to cause his ghost genes to take over." He smiled wryly, as if he had a sudden idea. "Almost like a reverse 'Plasmius Maximus'."

Marla blinked confusedly.

His amusement with his private joke was cut short as an echoing bang rang through the walls. Clockwork barely blinked, unsurprised at the sudden interruption. His visions were not needed to foresee this event.

The Observants had come.

In an instant, Danny's small form was shuffled over into Marla's arms, and Clockwork was out the door. He strode purposefully, gathering his power together even as he closed his eyes. Turning corners he didn't even know existed, Clockwork clenched his staff tightly and grit his teeth as energy fluctuated beneath his skin. He let out a hiss of discomfort, bit his lip, and released the energy in one great pulse.

White light exploded in great ripples throughout the corridor, rebounding back off the walls and causing the Time Master's hair and cloak to ruffle with the power. Clockwork's face remained blank and cold however, already used to the feeling.

It was necessary.

A great deal of his stamina had left him with that stunt, leaving him even more weakened since it was the second time that day that he had to put together the illusion. His image flickered once, then slowly faded in age, until he appeared to be a mere child once again. Normally, Clockwork would have sighed irritably at having to resort to suck trickery TWICE in one day, but not now.

Now, he was serious.

The observant's grating voices rang through the very walls in an angry clamour, steadily growing louder as he drew nearer to his viewing room. When the doors were in view, he barely paused to throw up his hood once again before sweeping the doors open with a resounding bang, simultaneously shifting his legs into a spectral tail. In an instant, he was bathed in the eerie green light of his viewing room and the three Observants were on him.

Clockwork couldn't help but let that sigh escape, even through his guise of stone.

The Observants would always annoy him.

Always.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . .

**Ugh. Ah. Gross.**

**That SUCKED. Feel free to tell me, but that was pure filler. Completely necessary, but still annoying. Those things needed to happen, but it was still BORING.**

**Eww.**

**Anywho, it`ll pick up, and I made this torture short for a reason: it was hard for me, so it would be even HARDER for you.**

**...that`s what HE said!**

**...**

***dies***

**Thank you SO SO much to: **inutana, senecka, Legionnaire Kael, Dagger Kitsune, Izreal, The Literary Lord, Sleeping Fey, Klerenallan Sombra de Plata, trachie17, darkwolf1662, Animeluver600, Kiomori, kerroohawk, **and **dragonflysky **for reviwing/subscribing/whatever. You guys make me so happy~!**


	5. Of Gears, Cogs, and Empty Halls

This is COMPLETELY AU, meaning that I'm screwing with practically everything, so don't assume ANYTHING! Nothing!

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**Time Meddler**

**Chapter Four: Of Gears, Cogs, and Empty Halls**

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He was warm. That was the first conscious thought Danny had when he woke. That, and how hungry he was. With a small whine at the thought of leaving the warmth of his bed, Danny

snuggled closer his pillow, sighing contentedly and breathing in the familiar smell of–

Nothing.

Alarm seared through him and he jolted upright with a gasp. Where was the smell of lavender and burnt cookies that he was so used to?

Everything was wrong. The colour on the walls, the strange green light that shone from the glass ceiling, the stale, tasteless air, the—ooh, were those stars on his comforter?

Wait. Focus, Danny.

He forced himself to calm down, pressing his small hands to his temples.

Think. The last thing he remembered was-

Oh.

Pain clouded his vision almost immediately, and he fought to keep from breaking down again, even as the images filled his mind. His family...was gone.

Gone and taken from him in one great flash of light. It wasn't fair. Nothing could have predicted that. He had just gotten home from a happy—if not entirely Dashel-free—day of school, his report card crumpled firmly in the hand not clutching at Jazzy's. His day had only seemed to get better as when he had gotten home, his father had swooped the two of them up into his arms with a cry of joy that was refreshing as it was unexpected.

He remembered being so proud of his parents. They had finally done it! Made that..._thingy_...that they had been working on for so long! And about time, too—he had been getting sick of eating canned soup for supper and having Jazzy pack his lunches.

She always forgot the cookies.

While Danny hadn't know exactly _what_ his Mommy and Daddy's machine did, when he first set eyes on it he knew at once that it was special.

Special, important, and somehow...

_His._

He had barely registered anything else at that point, the only thing in his mind being the shiny metal cave with strange designs carved in it's walls. The pull–the _urge_–to go closer only increased as the excitement around him did the same. He had barely heard his mother's panicked cry, too enraptured by the pretty, _mesmerizing_ green light that swirled into life at the mouth of the cave.

He dimly remembered a tug at his arm, pushing it forward as he yearned to _touch_ that light–to bring it towards him, to embrace it, when it all went wrong.

Jazzy's scream had pierced the air, and then there was pain.

Danny clenched his fists and bit his lip, choking down a sob. Amazingly, no tears came. He was glad. He didn't have the energy to cry anymore.

What was the point, with no Mommy to kiss his tears away?

Feeling extremely disheartened, Danny reluctantly climbed out of bed, barely noticing that the air of the room had an unnatural chill to it. He wondered vaguely why he had fallen asleep with shoes on—and moreover, where those strange shoes had come from—but found he didn't really care. He was more concerned with what was going to happen next.

Danny reached for the doorknob and turned it slowly, hesitant of disturbing the quiet of his room. To his surprise however, the door swung open on newly oiled hinges, silent and smooth. Feeling his confidence rise slightly, he crept out into the hallway, leaving his door open slightly so as to remember where it was.

The first thing he was aware of was the light. Unlike the cold glow that filtered in from the...sky?...in his room, the torches that lined the corridor outside his door were blazing with warm light. His previous thoughts were discarded and his eyes widened in an attempt to take in everything at once.

Soft padding sounds were heard as Danny walked delicately across the cobbled stone. The light from the torches bathed the dull gray stone in a way that made it seem almost violet, and the brass brackets on the walls shone even through the wear of the years. It was obvious to Danny, who had long since been introduced to splendour (though Uncle Vlad's place was a bit...tacky), that this place was old beyond reason.

Danny wandered further, noticing little things along the way. Where did that door lead? Why was the floor so dusty? Why weren't there pictures on the wall? And, above all:

Where _was_ everyone?

The corridor was eerily silent, and the warm glow of the torches dimmed colder the further he walked. Danny brought his hands to his chest nervously, blinking in slight confusion at the lack of feeling that ran through his fingers. A quick glance told him that his hands were gloved, but why would...?

Oh. Right.

Danny couldn't help the trill of eagerness that coursed through him at the memory of what...what was his name again? Clock...something...Any way, Clock-guy had told him that he had GHOST POWERS!

As creepy and disturbing as that was, he could DO stuff!

Like...like climb walls! And fly! And...what was that word again? Started with a "ff" sound...hmmm...well, he could walk through stuff!

Danny's mood flickered momentarily—his Mommy had taught him that...Daddy had tried to demonstrate...it had been funny until Mommy had scolded him for laughing...

Danny bit his lip and quickly distracted himself with the decor again. The wallpaper of this section was purple—actually, almost everything he had seen so far was purple. Purple and green.

...weird...

Quickly finding that he did not, in fact, care very much about the decorating tastes of his new "Land Lord", he continued his wandering silently, noticing quickly that the further he ventured from his room and the more turns he took, the colder the light became. Danny was just starting to become nervous as the lights dimmed immensely and his wanderings halted at a larger, ornate door.

A trill of fear ran through him at the sight and he let out an odd, shaking breath that fogged in the frigid air. Raising one shaking hand to the varnished wood, Danny pressed his palm firmly against it, and pushed.

With an echoing creek, the doors edged open, spilling a pale green light into the hall and illuminating his face. Feeling distinctly less cheerful, Danny bit his lip, hesitating.

"I've been expecting you."

Danny shrieked in fear and spun around wildly, clutching at his heart–which, he was surprised to note, was actually _beating_.

Clockwork just smiled his odd little half-smile, and glided past Danny to touch the half-open door. Pushing it forward fully, he motioned for the child to follow him, seemingly oblivious to the rush of cold air that blew past him into the corridor.

Danny let out an involuntary shiver as his hair blew back, and followed almost reluctantly. The room was even more disturbingly strange than he had expected, and his breath caught in his chest as he stared around in wonder.

A fantastically large room, with a seemingly never ending ceiling that swam with the same strange, green clouds that swirled outside. What little wall and floor there was must have crumbled and fallen into the abyss below, as only small chunks of the rock remained to float eerily in the green mist.

In a flash, Danny was forcibly reminded of the floating cliff top he had perched on when he had first entered the Ghost Zone—as Daddy had called it. He forced down his mounting panic and focussed on the fact that the neon green light was, in fact, coming from the swirling mist itself. Finding that this did not in fact make him feel any better, Danny turned away just as Clockwork (for that WAS his name, right?) spoke again.

"Daniel, I...must apologise for the fright I gave you earlier. It was never my intention to _hurt_ you, in fact, I just want the best for you..." He trailed off, an almost uncertain edge to his voice.

Danny just nodded mutely, and Clockwork took this as an invitation to continue.

"You should be able to turn back now, your body will have adjusted to the strain of this world's gravity and the percentage of oxygen in the..."

Danny's eyes glazed over as the time ghost continued to rant, dimly wondering if he was doing it on purpose, just to distract him. At last Clockwork trailed off, took one glance at the look on Danny's face, and sighed. He ran a hand though his hair roughly, disturbing the indigo fabric of his cloak. Danny couldn't help but be interested though, when the older ghost's ice white hair came into view, a stark contrast to his blue skin.

Clockwork, unaware of his young charge's observations simply motioned for Danny to come forward, his gloved hand sweeping back his cloak majestically. Danny's eyes once again followed the trailing edges of the cloak, his gaze flickering to the cogs imbedded in the ghost's chest, the frightful scar on his young face that cut across his left eye, and finally the writhing spectral tail that completed the lower half of Clockwork's body.

Said Time Master made a little impatient sound then, and Danny floated—yes, _floated_—forward hastily, glancing somewhat warily at the heavy clock-topped staff the ghost held.

Huh.

Come to think of it, the entire _room_ was filled with time-telling machinery. Giant cogs the size of houses towered over them, leaving surprisingly menacing shadows across the broken floor.

Danny came to an uncertain stop at Clockwork's feet—or rather, where his feet would have been, if he had any.

...Not that it creeped him out or anything.

"Daniel," Clockwork said, snapping him out of his daze, "You have to turn back."

Danny froze.

"B-but, it _hurts_–"

Clockwork ran a hand through his hair again, sighing. "Daniel, did you not listen to a word I said? It won't hurt this time, since your body has..." he trailed off, looking at Danny's blank face, and a reluctant smile pulled at his lips. "Alright," he relented, looking to all the world as if his entire view on the situation had changed.

Suddenly, he looked a lot like the guardian he was claiming to be.

Danny's eyes filled with tears, and without a second thought, he lunged at the Time Master and hugged him firmly around the middle. Clockwork stiffened, then patted him awkwardly on the back, obviously uncomfortable.

Danny didn't care.

"A-alright," Clockwork said uncertainly, before drawing up his zeal again. "First thing's first, if you're not going to transform, we need to get you some proper clothes." He smiled lightly at eh enraged look on Danny's face which was slightly ruined by the tear tracks and snotty nose. "No buts–you can keep the hazmat suit." Danny let out an audible sigh of relief, "..but we're getting you something to go over it, at the very least." Clockwork smirked.

"Marla!"

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Daniel scowled, obviously unhappy. Clockwork couldn't help but grin a little bit. With a start, he realized that he had smile more in the past couple of days than he had in the centuries he had been a Time Master.

Maybe he should have gotten a companion earlier...like a cat, or a goldfish.

Biting back the chuckle that fought to escape his lips at the thought of himself carrying around a baggy with a goldfish in it, Clockwork turned back to the task at hand: trying to get Daniel to wear what he deemed as _proper clothing_.

Unfortunately, as an ancient ghost with none too many friends, Clockwork knew _nothing _about the latest trends. Not that it would have mattered: he was NOT going to allow his new charge to go around dressed like a _human, _of all things.

The Ghost Zone could_ not know_ about Daniel`s status as a hybrid. It could doom them both.

Right now, he was trying in vain (along with Marla) to get Daniel to wear a bastardized version of the standard tunic of a Time Master, but Danny would have nothing to do with it.

"I am NOT wearing a DRESS!" Daniel shouted hotly from his perch on the stool in front of the mirror, causing Marla to wince back with the fabric she was hold, and Clockwork to cover his ears. Kid had some lungs on him.

"It's not a _dress_, Master Danny, it's a tunic! Many men wear–"

"I don't _care_! Unless you can tell me that I'm a Wizard and these are robes, then I'm NOT WEARING A DRESS!"

Clockwork sighed and rubbed at his temples where he could feel a headache forming. He didn't understand _half_ the references Daniel made, but the message was clear: No tunic.

"Fine!" he said irritably, slightly satisfied when Daniel cowed under his stern glance. Maybe he wasn't so bad at this after all. "No tunic. Marla, get the other one." he ordered, sending Marla off with a thankful air about her. Once she was gone, he knelt down in front of Daniel so that he had to look up at him, and spoke softly but seriously.

"You need to treat Marla with more respect, Daniel. She's only trying to help you, as am I."

Daniel looked away guiltily, his lip caught in his teeth. He gave a mumbled apology, to which Clockwork frowned.

"Not to me, Daniel."

Daniel nodded, and at that moment, Marla came bustling in with an armful of violet fabric, looking flustered. As she knelt down beside Clockwork to adjust the sizing of the cloth, Danny paused her in her work, his hand pulling at her sleeve. She looked up, startled and a bit wary.

"M'sorry..." Daniel mumbled barely audible, but it caused a grin like no other to appear on Marla's face. In no time at all, she was chatting on again about anything she could think of. Daniel grimaced at Clockwork of her shoulder, who just laughed and ruffled his hair playfully, causing said hybrid to squawk in indignation.

Moments later, when Danny was clad in a deep violet hooded cloak that pinned to the side in a silver cog and was able to cover his shockingly white hair, Clockwork smiled.

"It's like I really _am _a super hero!"

Everything was going to be alright.

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Miles away, in his own lair of sorts, Vladimir Masters watched as Channel 4 News reported on the devastating tragedy that shook the foundations of Amity Park. The Fentons were dead. The camera panned over the rubble, catching only glimpses of broken machinery and wires as if they didn't want the public to witness the destruction. They were not quick enough, however, to block out the scene of an oddly shaped vault in the wall, clear from rubble and sealed with iron doors, or the image of a small, pale, burnt hand that protruded from the debris, still clutched in a death grip around her favourite toy.

Vladimir Masters turned away from the screen as they extracted the bodies from the rubble, not wanting to watch any more. His plan had failed. Madeline and Jasmine had died along with the buffoon...

...but where was the boy?

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**Alrighty, then, thank you so much to: **awesomealicia89, Ambiguous Rose, DeliciousKrabKakes, Vixen48, Dblack47, shapphire-fox, Bipolar Visionary, Silverfireblossom, Orichalcos, anne192, LazyPlotBunnies, killerdoodlebug, yaoiluvinshadowvamp14, Krenaya, Harmonious Wolf, Eleazar878, Melondy Rose, Lord Chrono, whiteflower122, supaherolena02, and Fates My Bitch


	6. The Master

This is COMPLETELY AU, meaning that I'm screwing with practically everything, so don't assume ANYTHING! Nothing!

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**Phantoms: Ice and Fire**

**Chapter Five:** **The Master**

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_Two Weeks Later_

"...just a little bit longer, Daniel. You can do it..."

"Errgh...but...I...caaaan't..."

"Yes you can, Daniel, and you will. Now, keep your focus..."

Clockwork couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at the red faced expression of his young charge. Danny was floating a mere metre from where he was, but unlike the Time Master, his feet were not a safe distance from the ground. Clockwork, in the pretense of trying to look more imposing, had conjured up legs to watch as his pupil attempted to _fly_.

Hovering over the edge of a cliff that dropped off the side of his island into the nothingness that was the Ghost Zone.

Clockwork chuckled. While he was sure that Danny thought that this training was a matter of life or death (in a manner of speaking), Clockwork knew that, should he fail, the natural buoyancy of the Ghost Zone would only drop him a few metres before catching him again.

...not that he was going to tell Danny that, of course—fear was _excellent _motivation.

So, when Danny let out a squeak of fear as his concentration broke, Clockwork only panicked _slightly._ Nevertheless, he plucked the young halfling out of the air before he had a chance to fall more than three feet—no sense in letting a perfectly good training method go to waste, right?

Ignoring the fact that Danny's impromptu-near miss had gotten him more than a bit riled up, Clockwork placed the now-squirming-but-still-shocked Danny on the rocky ground, making sure his white-booted feet were firmly planted before letting go of his underarms.

Danny gave him a shaky pout that might have been hiding a smile before bolting off, giggling madly. It took Clockwork a moment to realize that Danny's training session was only half an hour in.

Really, children were a menace.

He thought for a moment whether or not chasing after the child was worth the effort, and eventually decided that, yes, training Danny "Phantom" so that he didn't run off and get himself killed was more important than a few minutes of peace and quiet. Mercilessly fighting away a sigh, Clockwork focussed his energy and—

Danny's face when he appeared suddenly in front of him in a swirl of light was well worth the energy drain that accompanied teleportation.

The young halfa squealed in surprise and skidding to a halt, eyes wide and mouth gaping.

Clockwork smirked.

"Can I learn how to do THAT?"

The smirk disappeared.

"Perhaps you should learn how to actually _fly_ first, Daniel. Or do you _like_ your constant meetings with the ground?" He had said it teasingly, and Danny reacted as he expected: flushing red (Yes, red! It was astounding!) and mumbling incoherently.

"None of that, Daniel. Now, to that outcrop and back."

"But I–!" Danny panicked, eyes wide.

"Go!"

Clockwork would be damned if he wasn't a hands-on teacher.

With a frustrated little yell, Danny rose unsteadily into the air and floated spastically forward, using his small hands as a sort of propellor. As amusing as it was to watch his charge attempt to doggy-paddle air, Clockwork felt a warm glow at watching his progress.

Danny was a fast learner. Just a week ago, he had been waking up screaming every night, and flinching every time he had to use his powers. While the young boy had _seemed_ excited enough about the...perks...of being half-dead, his whole life he had been taught to hate ghosts, to hunt them and fear them.

It was hard to break such an ingrained teaching, especially when it was one of the only things Danny had left of his parents.

But now, as Danny came floating back to him, a look of wide-eyed wonder on his face, Clockwork knew that something in him had been repaired.

He was strong. Stronger than he himself knew.

Danny floated unsteadily to a stop, his arms pin-wheeling to gain balance as he touched lightly to the ground. There was a pause, and then he looked up at Clockwork, his face in a wide grin of bewilderment.

"I did it..." he whispered, then laughed. "I did it! I did it! I FLEW!" He was practically bouncing with excitement.

Clockwork smiled lightly and, swallowing what little pride he had left after a mere fortnight of the halfa's company, he ruffled Danny's white hair, the action for once not causing the boy to recoil in embarrassment. "Well done. Now, do it again, and see if you can _without_ bouncing off the walls."

It was worth it to see Danny's face fall in horror.

... . .. ... . . ... . .. .. ... .. . .. ... .. .. .. . . . . . . . ... ... .. .. ... . .

Danny glanced at the clock, noting with some frustration that the man-sized minute hand had barely moved at all. Clockwork's _meeting_ with the "Pestering Old Eyeballs" (as Clockwork himself called them) was taking _forever_, and he was very bad at waiting_. _Letting out a little huff of irritation, he focussed on his reflection in the colossal glass face of the clock. Pale fingers toyed with the violet edges of the heavy material, ghosting across the metal cog above his heart that held the cloak together. Grudgingly, he smiled. It was warm.

In all honesty, he would have discarded the cloak without a second thought, preferring to just float around in his hazmat regardless of what the Time Master said, but something had stopped him. And not just the comforting warmth that was so different from the rest of the Ghost Zone.

"_See? You look very smart in that. It suits you."_

Danny shivered slightly, recalling the words that Clockwork had spoken to him, shortly after Marla had fitted him.

His mother used to say things like that.

Danny didn't know what to think about Clockwork. He was scary—not in the threatening, School-Bully way, but in that he was just so _big_. Clockwork's ghostly form _radiated_ power, his whole body glowed with it. It was difficult enough to stand in ghost form, but the aura was almost suffocating when he was human, like he was now.

Danny studied his reflection more closely. He really did resemble his...his Dad, didn't he? He bit his lip and forced the tears away. Determined, he flung the cloak back over his shoulders, freeing his hands completely. Raising them halfway and flexing his fingers, he let out a long breath—it condensed quickly in the cool air—and felt for his power.

The smallest jolt of pain went through him–his heart stopped beating. That was what had truly frightened him in the beginning, but it was old news, now. A rush of strange iciness filtered through his veins, and a brilliant halo of light exploded at his waist, travelling upwards with a painful slowness.

Danny forced himself to keep his eyes open and glued on his reflection instead of letting the power roll them back in his head. The discomfort would pass. He was getting better at it. He watched as his new red jumper and jeans faded into the familiar sight of his black and silver hazmat suit. The cloak remained the same, which Danny had to admit was _so cool_.

The light passed over his face, obscuring his view for a millisecond, and then it was over. A boy with neon green eyes and powder-white hair was staring back at him from behind the glass.

Danny smiled. Then grinned. Soon he was laughing, the sound echoing out and drowning out the muffled voices that came from down the hall in the "Meeting" room. Only a month before, he had _hated_ the feeling of transformation, the awful sting of all of his cells dying, but now he was used to it. And Clockwork said it would only get easier.

Giddy with a new energy, Danny spun on his heel and flew out the hallway at top speed. He was proud to say that he only smacked into a wall _once_, and he could've sworn it hadn't been there a second ago.

Finally making it out into the grounds, Danny cut a quick left and flew straight for the large pile of rusting cogs at the edge of Clockwork's territory. It was a good fifty feet high and covered the entire back end of Clockwork's territory like some bizarre dumping ground, laced with wires and pipes and cables and creating a semi-sturdy and completely hazardous maze of metal that was Danny's absolute favourite place in his new home.

Except his room, of course, but that was only because of the glass ceiling.

Danny floated to a stop and hovered near the spindly skeleton of a tall tree, a sad smile on his face.

Jazzy would've hated it there, but she would have played hide-and-seek with him and Tucker anyway, or help them build a fort, or even just watch the two of them play video games and eat pretzels. Danny sniffed a little, forcing back tears. There _was_ no Jazzy to share pretzels with, anymore. No Tucker, either, really. He wondered if his only friend in school missed him. He had been gone for weeks...would he ever see him again? Were they even still friends?

At least he knew Dashel's opinion on him wouldn't change. It was strangely comforting.

Danny looked up from where he had been staring at the ground when he heard a noise from within the cog-pile. A trill of fearful excitement ran through him, making him shiver. He always HAD liked horror movies.

The ones without ghosts, that was.

The noise came again, louder, and Danny realized that it was a strange 'pinging' sound, like metal on metal. It echoed menacingly, and Danny shivered again, this time in anticipation.

Maybe it was a ghost? The thought was enough to send him into a fit of laughter, for what else COULD it have been? He floated forward, pushing his cloak back and peering into the main tunnel of the pile. He noted with some amazement that the tunnel lit up with his green eyes, something he hadn't noticed before. The sound came again, bouncing along the metal pipeline eerily.

Danny felt his chest clench, felt that same irresistible pull that had led him into the arms of the portal, and knew with the same sickening certainty, that he would follow that urge to the ends of the Earth.

So it was only natural that Danny climbed into the pipe and crawled along, a wild smile on his face and his ears pricked to the metallic pinging deep inside the junk heap. Only the pale green glow of his eyes lit his way, creating strange shadows with every movement. His breath came unnaturally hot in such tight confines, and any light from behind him was obscured by his cloak. As his neck began to ache and his knees were bruised, Danny would wonder about turning back, going to wait for Clockwork like he had promised he would, and he couldn't help but wish that he had perfected that "intangibility" that Clockwork could do. It sure as hell would've been handy, now. But then that pinging would start again, and Danny knew that he would have to continue, lest he burst with curiosity.

Maybe it was an animal—there WERE ghost animals, right? Or maybe a strange machine...or a robot! A grin split his face at the thought, and as a faint, flickering light began to shine from the end of the tunnel, Danny increased his pace as much as he could while on his abused hands and knees.

The pinging was louder now, almost too loud, like someone beating a metal drum with an equally metal drumstick. His sensitive ears protested at the sound, made only worse by the echoing pipeline around him, but he was intrigued.

What on earth was that sound?

Realistically, he should've known that crawling half a mile into steel wreckage in a land where death isn't exactly a big deal was NOT a good idea, but the larger, rebellious part of his mind—the ADHD part that would get him pushed down in the playground after a particularly bold remark—was repeating a mantra in his head.

Gotta see it.

Gotta see it.

Gotta see it.

Danny let out a little giggle and thought that maybe he shouldn't have had that last piece of chocolate cake that evening, but he just couldn't help it if Clockwork sometimes forgot that humans—especially eight-year-old humans—unlike ghosts, needed to be fed. He had to stock up.

The extra sugar REALLY didn't help his attention span, though, nor his rationality.

Wind blew like the breath of a giant beast across his face, and Danny stopped giggling instantly, all giddiness replaced with awe.

The pipeline had ended, opening up into a vast cavern of steel, lined with cables that strained to hold back the weight of the mountain. Wide beams lay haphazardly and cogs the size of minivans lay stacked in piles. Danny's hair blew back as that unnatural wind floated through the space once more, hot and rusty, like burning metal. The warm glow from before radiated from a gas fire in the centre of the chamber.

Immediately, Danny knew something was wrong. Ghosts had no need of mortal fire—why would they, when they were cold and dead themselves? But it was obviously real fire, with acrid smoke and everything. And a figure was knelt at it, holding a metal rod like a fire poker.

It 'pinged' again as the figure rapped the rod against the metal rim of fire leisurely. The man looked up, then, and the first thing Danny noticed was the ice blue skin and stark black hair that swept upward in menacing spikes.

He smiled, and called out in a deceptively warm voice,

"Ah...a visitor."

Danny's blood ran cold.

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Vladimir Masters smiled up at the young ghost, his thoughts whirling. He didn't understand. He didn't know where he was. And he had thought for _sure_ that he was aware of every ghostly being, and every territory in the Zone.

How wrong he was.

"Ah...a visitor." he said mildly, beckoning the youngling to come towards the fire. When the child didn't move, Vlad toned down his powers just a tad, letting the heat in the air dull slightly and calming the winds that the clashing temperatures of his energy and the Zone had created. He needed the child. He could tell him where he _was_.

It had been an accident. An experiment. Vlad had been trying out one of the newest powers he had developed: teleportation. He had been sure that he could perfect it.

Unfortunately, he was wrong, and he was in an unknown territory, buried under fifty feet of rubble.

Hurray.

The child floated downward warily, and Vlad immediately zoned in on the crest on his cloak, but it was unfamiliar. Cursing mentally, Vlad smiled and put down his makeshift fire poker, noting when the child relaxed. "My name is Plasmius, child, and who might you be?"

"I-it's Danny Fe—just Danny." he stuttered, looking intently at him with neon green eyes. He was very small, Vlad noted, and if he had cared more, he might have asked how he had died. But alas, the fates of _ghosts_ did not concern him. He smiled again.

"Hello, Daniel."

"It's _Danny_" the child insisted, eyes narrowing comically. Vlad chuckled, even as a small part of him shuddered slightly with nostalgia. He had sounded just like...

Just...like...

Vlad's eyes widened, causing Daniel to lean away quickly, but he didn't care.

Daniel...Danny..._Danny Fe–?_

"Y-you said your name was Daniel? And your surname, your last name...is it...Fenton?"

Daniel's mouth dropped and his eyes widened in fear. "H-how did you know that? Are...are you a friend of Clockwork's? _Do you know where my parents are?"_ his voice pitched dangerously, echoing through the chamber. Suddenly, it was much colder, but Vlad didn't care.

"Clockwork..." he breathed in fascination. "This is...this is wonderful. I may have lost Maddie, but you, my boy, _you_ are the key to my desires, dead or no."

Danny let out a scream as Vlad lunged forward, grabbing the young ghost's wrist in a firm grip. His smile only widened as the boy just struggled fruitlessly, a small scream ripping from his lips. "You cannot yet 'Phase'...this is turning out much more in my favour than I could ever have hoped! With you for ransom, I could bargain with the Time Master, I could do it all over! _I could have Madeline..."_

"WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH MY MOTHER?" Danny screamed, jerking his body uselessly, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Who are you, you Fruit-Loop? What are you doing?"

Vladimir smiled ferally, causing the boy to squeak in fear and quiet. "I am someone you know very well, my little badger, and while I am very sorry for your untimely demise, it was all for the best, because that_ fool_ is dead and still re-forming, and _I. Have. You._"

He shook Danny's body roughly with every word, and Danny gasped at the heat that was building in his arm, in his head, everywhere. His vision was going fuzzy, and the man kept shaking him. In a flash, he understood what Plasmius had said. His eyes filled with pain and he gasped out, even as the darkness devoured him,

"Un...cle...Vl...ad..."

Plasmius grinned, looking quiet deranged with a young boy dangling from his hands, but his triumph turned to shock when a bright light erupted from around the boy's waist, and travelled.

Silver boots became red trainers. Black became jeans and a red jumper, and Daniel's powder white hair turned black once again.

Vlad Masters stared in shock at the breathing, _human_ boy that dangled from his wrist in his hand, before laughing.

Once he began, he couldn't stop.

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A mere mile away, the Observants cried out in panic as the Mater of Time, Clockwork himself screamed in agony and collapsed to the meeting room floor, a mass of twitching limbs and flickering energy.

The Time had come.

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**A/N: And that's the fifth chapter~! Sorry for the (long-ass) wait!**

**Also, sorry if it's confusing, I got some feedback from DeviantArt that it was hard to follow, so for that I apologise. **

**Oh, and, for getting creepy and dramatic on Vlad's bit, I blame the darkness of Chrno Crusade, which is freaking AMAZING, and the anime made me cry. I have never felt so bad for fictional characters in my LIFE.**

**Anywho, thank you so SO much to,** Casera Phantom, Sin-NaMe, RedHerring1412, Phantom-Stelo, Phantom Lightning, Taxicat2, Werewolfsong, Inuyuke, 1valleygirl4, cocoa85715, Shadow of the Abyss, TwilightObsessed91, Yijasha, cheshiresapprentice, baby Cyclopes,1dgrayman, D.O.P. Luna George **and **Son of Lucifer **for reviewing/subscribing/whatever! You guys make my life!**


	7. Feel Free to Flame

This is COMPLETELY AU, meaning that I'm screwing with practically everything, so don't assume ANYTHING! Nothing!

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**Phantoms: Ice and Fire**

**Chapter Six:** **Of Blood**

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Clockwork shuddered awake, his vision clearing as the black spots of pain receded, only to recoil in surprise at the sight of one ghastly eyeball peering down at him in concern. He choked a bit as his astral body shuddered spastically, still reeling from the force of his vision. Forcing himself to his elbows and causing the surrounding Observants to scatter, Clockwork groaned miserably, trying in vain to organize his thoughts.

He remembered discussing the latest(annoying) developments with the Observants, something about paradoxes mixing with excess amounts of fruit punch, when...

Clockwork gasped and bolted upright, feeling the power surge back into his form as he went, his mind whirling with dread.

Daniel.

Something had happened to Daniel.

It came flashing back to him in a cacophony of sound. Clockwork felt a strange darkness cloud his thoughts, while at the same time, things were perfectly clear. His eyes were hardened garnet behind his sweat-soaked white bangs.

Vladimir Masters had taken_ his_ Daniel.

And he was going to pay.

Cursing the energy drain that his visions caused, Clockwork flew out the door as quickly as he cold manage, toppling Observants as he went. He was _so_ going to get scolded for "insubordination" later, but at the moment, he really didn't care.

...I'm sorry, I really cant do this anymore.

I'm sorry im such a worthless fuckass that I cant even finish a fanfic without it rotting inside my head until I start to loathe every single second of it, but this is through.

I apologise to all of you guys who subscribed to me or whatever, only to get the newest update in a shit ton of bad news.

If anyone would wish to adopt this, or just take it, message me and it's yours. Other than that, im just gonna slap a big DISCONTINUED label on it and leave it there to rot.

Sorry, everyone. Especially JessTFfan2212, who made amazing fanart for me, and then I just turned around and shat all over it like the shithead I am.

Sorry.

Really.


End file.
